No Need To Say Goodbye
by Batsy Rocks
Summary: Jason is currently at the Manor, Bruce of all people in the same room with him. This time there are no arguments, no glaring contests, and certainly not fists flying in all directions. There's no Batman and there's no Red Hood. Only Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman or its characters.

Thanks to everyone who left comments on my first Bruce-Jason fic a while ago, giving me the confidence I needed to try again. :)

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Jason is slouched on a comfortable armchair, the familiar weight of a book between his hands a comfort as his eyes sweep across the familiar pages.

He is currently at the Manor, Bruce of all people in the same room with him. This time there are no arguments, no glaring contests, and certainly not fists flying in all directions.

There's no Batman and there's no Red Hood. Only Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd.

The bedroom is quiet, the soft sound of Jason's voice reciting Shakespeare filling the space and almost drowning entirely the soft breathing of both occupants as well as the buzzing sounds of the medical equipment besides B's bed.

The man is unconscious. Has been since Jason arrived, who knows how long ago. He feels both relief and terror because of that. The last thing he wants is have to interact with the older man, but seeing him lying there so still it's just wrong. It makes his stomach turn and his chest feel heavy.

And yet, being in his apartment or in one of his safe houses away from the Manor- away from _Bruce,_ makes him feel sicker.

Bruce was transferred from the Watchtower yesterday, eight days after the attack that almost cost him his life, in some fucking planet far away.

Jason went to the Watchtower once after the initial surgery, when they weren't sure if B was going to make it. He alternated between crying and yelling at Bruce to fucking fight. Cursing him and saying sorry again and again. He even told him he forgave him, just before leaving, fearing he wouldn't see him again.

He hadn't slept that night, or the next one. Hadn't slept for more than a couple of hours since he learned about Bruce's condition.

And today, waiting for the others to get out of the Manor so he could come in had been torture.

There are bruises, broken bones, fractures, and cuts all over his body. Bandages, casts, and sutures holding him together.

Jason runs a shaking hand through his hair and goes back to reading once he realizes he's been looking at him for a long time now. He has to clear his throat twice before starting.

Getting lost in the familiar story written in the pages helps him relax again little by little. He's not sure if he's reading for B or for himself, but it really doesn't matter at this point. He's going to have to leave once Alfred gets the Demon back from school and he's not going to waste another second thinking about that.

He's so focused on the lecture that it takes him a second to realize there's movement from the bed. He tenses slightly but continues reading, shooting wary looks in Bruce's direction when he hears little noises from him until he sees his eyes blink open.

"Jay-" The man on the bed croaks after a moment. The sound is nothing but a whisper, yet it makes Jason tighten his grip on the book.

"Shut up, I'm reading."

He doesn't continue reading, though. It takes him a couple of seconds, but he forces himself to look at B, his heart pounding.

"You okay?" He asks gruffly.

Bruce opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, his face pale and hollow, expression pained. It scares him a little, seeing how frail and human he looks.

"I'll go get Alfred."

Jason all but boils out of the room, running down the stairs and toward the kitchen.

Alfred doesn't even bat an eye when he sees him, of course, and a second later they are on their way back to B's bedroom.

The older man goes into the room, but Jason hesitates at the doorway, hearing the rumble of the butler's voice as he speaks. He should leave now. B's going to be just fine and he finally saw him awake. There's no reason for him to be here. He should go before things get awkward.

He curls his fists, but rather than turn around to leave, he takes a step forward.

"There was an incident during your latest mission with the League," Alfred it's saying when Jason enters the room. The older man is checking the IV line and the machines around B. Probably adjusting the drugs B's under.

Jason doesn't make any move to walk farther, standing only a couple of steps from the door where he can see the bed.

"Are the-"

"They are fine. Your injuries were the more severe among the group."

He clenches his jaw at the reminder. It was fucking unbelievable that a group of _metas_ couldn't even watch the back of the only human with them, and instead let him deal with shit while they covered their own asses. Fucking useless all of them.

"How-" Bruce cuts out into a coughing fit. Jasons resists the urge to move closer and watches as Alfred reaches for a glass of water, moving the straw to B's lips.

"Everyone injured during the incident other than you have recovered at this moment," Alfred tells him.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other as the room falls silent. He wants nothing more than to get the hell out of here, but he can't move. Can't do anything but watch as Alfred touches B's forehead.

"You should go back to sleep now, sir," Alfred says softly. Tenderly. "You need your rest."

There's the sound of Bruce's drawing a breath. "Jay. He-"

"Master Jason is here," Alfred says, looking to where he's standing. "And I believe he is not about to leave yet."

"Whatever," Jason replies when he feels B's half-lid eyes on him.

Alfred leaves a second later, but not before putting a hand on Jason's shoulder and squeezing lightly. He has to look away from the older man's eyes.

Once the door clicks shut, he forces himself to walk back to his armchair, the one he dragged to B's bedside. Without looking at the man on the bed he picks the book and sits down again.

"Jay," Bruce calls, blue eyes barely open as he fights whatever drugs are about to knock him out cold again.

Jason bits his lip. "What?"

"Thank you."

The words he utters after that are nothing but an unintelligible murmur, but if Jason tries really hard, he can imagine he said 'I love you'.

Jason swallows hard.

"I love you too," He whispers, but there's no response from Bruce, who is already unconscious again.

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 **a/n:** Yes, I just had to use the cliche of one of them being hurt and totally out of it to get them together. That's the most effective way to do it, and I do love me some Bruce!whump. I would love to know what you think.

English is not my native language, so any tips or corrections are welcome.


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